Lucky, the Pig (IP)

Once, there was a young man named Pierre who had a very lucky pig.

 

The pig was named Lucky, in fact and, each day Pierre would take the pig out hunting for truffles but instead of truffles; the pig, with its flat, pink, piggy snout would sniff out buried gold and jewels.

 

“Why, Lucky”, Pierre would say, rubbing the pig on its tummy, “You are a truly amazing pig. I’m so lucky to have you”.

 

And to celebrate, Pierre would always make Lucky his favourite food which was baked apple pie.

 

But Pierre had a neighbour; a mean, grumpy old man named Mr Blumble who, seeing Pierre come home every day with his arms full of gold and jewels became very jealous.

 

“If only I had that pig”, Mr Blumble thought to himself, rubbing his chin, “Then it would be me who was rich, not that fool, Pierre”.

 

And, one night, climbing over his fence and creeping into Pierres garden, Mr Blumble stole Pierre’s pig; tying it up with a rope and prodding it with a stick, saying,

 

“Your my pig, now, Lucky and it’s me you are going to make rich”.

 

Then, because the moon was big and full and bright and because Mr Blumbell couldn’t wait to get his hands upon some gold, he took Lucky into the forest , just as Pierre had.

 

But Lucky didn’t like Mr Blumbel. He could tell Mr Blumbel was mean because he kept prodding him with a stick and yanking upon his rope and ordered Lucky around rather than speaking to him nicely.

 

And, at first, Lucky refused to help Mr Blumbel. He sat down, folded his arms and just wouldn't move.

 

But this only made Mr Blumbell furious and so Mr Blumbell took out his old gun and fired it in the air which startled Lucky, shouting,

 

“You’ll find my treasure or else I’ll shoot you and make you into bacon, do you understand?”.

 

So poor lucky, because he had no choice, started to sniff about until, finally, the old man heard him making a grunting and squealing sound as if he had found something and then, excitedly, Mr Blumbell ran over to the spot carrying his shovel and began to dig.

 

“I’m going to be rich”, he said, smiling happily as he dug, “I’m going to be as rich as a king”.

 

And, sure enough, when Mr Blumbel had dug up the spot, he found that it was full of gold and jewels and, giving a cry of “Whoopee”, he started to pick them up out of the hole he had dug and put them into a sack and even hung one of the golden items in the hole, a golden medallion, around his neck.

 

But then, underneath all the gold and jewels, to his surprise, Mr Blumbel saw a skeleton and even more surprising, the skeleton opened its mouth and, in a ghostly voice, started to speak.

 

“Who has taken my treasure?”, it asked.

 

“It was him”, said the old man in a terrified voice, pointing to Lucky, “That pig. He took your gold”.

 

But the skeleton saw the medallion that the old man had hung round his neck.

 

“Liar”, he said, “It was you. Give me back my treasure at once or you’ll be sorry”.

 

But Mr Blumble was even more greedy than he was frightened and, picking up the sack of gold and jewels he ran off shouting, “Never. It’s mine. It’s mine. It’s all mine” and when he did this, the skeleton leapt up out of the hole and ran after him and, to this day, no one has seen or heard of Mr Blumble.

 

But, though he was free of Mr Blumble, Lucky was still sad because he missed his friend Pierre and didn’t know if he could find his way home and so he wandered through the woods in the dark, listening to the sound of hooting owls and howling wolves and feeling very frightened but then, suddenly, Lucky smelled something that he recognised; a delicious smell; the smell of hot, baked apple pie.

 

“Pierres apple pie”, he thought, following the smell and licking his lips, “Just the way he makes it, with cinnamon…mmm”.

 

Then, suddenly, when he had been following the smell of apple pie for some time, he heard the sound of someone calling.

 

“Lucky! Lucky!”, they were shouting.

 

It was the sound of his friend Pierre calling for him and then, recognizing the voice, Lucky ran happily towards it and, before long, he saw Pierre holding a baked apple pie in his hands.

 

“Oh Lucky”, said Pierre, hugging his Pig, “I’m so glad to see you. I thought I’d lost you forever. I made you your favourite baked apple pie, hoping that you might smell it”.

 

“Yes, I did”, thought Lucky, nodding and pushing his snout, contentedly, into the apple pie gobbling up all the warm sweet baked apple inside.

 

Then, afterwards, Pierre and Lucky went back home where they both lived happily and luckily ever after.